


First Encounter

by Alexandra (AlexandraGrace826)



Series: Zach Shuster [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:40:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24729841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexandraGrace826/pseuds/Alexandra
Summary: Zach (you) and Liza's first encounter.
Series: Zach Shuster [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1788109





	First Encounter

You glance up at the clock for the third time in 15 minutes. The draft proposal you're writing has barely been fleshed out and it's already 11. You had actually arrived at work on time just for this! It actually had been sad rather than frustrating this morning. It wasn't the early hour that got to you--it was the realization that the reasons you woke up in the morning were no longer the little things you had come to love in high school and university. There was no more waking up to a slew of texts from your friends asking if you were alive--instead, it was a slew of emails reminding you of all the upcoming deadlines. You even missed waking up to the screaming of your younger siblings, excited about your cousins coming over. You rub your face and try to clear your mind.

As badly as you want to take a lunch break, you really need to finish this. You tell yourself you'll at least finish the first draft before heading downstairs to grab a coffee. Maybe you'll take a walk around the block. It's cool and cloudy outside--just the way you like it. You're excited about the rain that Jessica on the weather had promised. You still miss the other girl a little--she had more personality. But Jessica is lovely too.

You shake your head and get down to work. It's 12:15 by the time you push away from your desk, crack your knuckles and neck, and stand to stretch. You finally finished the first step, and you deserve a reward. You walk to the glass door of your office and pull it open. You have to pass a long line of identical offices with glass doors on your way to the elevators. A few offices are empty, but most people are still typing away or on a call. One of the interns is on the phone with an obvious personal call. He was friendly and funny and a hard worker, but something about him just rubbed you the wrong way.

Your mind continues to wander as you go through the motions of getting in the elevator, pushing the button, and waiting for the lady on the speakers to announce " _Lobby_." You think about what you might get at the coffee place next to your office building. Then you thought about how Jeremy, your roommate, had been a barista for a few months. What if Jeremy took a job at _Bean There, Donut That_? He'd probably ignore his duties as soon as he saw you. He'd come over and crack some joke about you slacking, then laugh it off and say that he doesn't do much either. Maybe he'd try to slip you something on the house, and you'd get all flustered trying to refuse. You've always hated receiving gifts. Thank goodness Christmas is over.

_I love rock and roll_

_Put another dime in the jukebox baby_

_I love rock and roll..._

By now you're standing under the awning of your office building, enjoying the feeling of the mist in the air that was brushing against your face, soaking in the sound of water _drip-drip-dripping_ on the red canvas above you, and embracing the sound of tires rushing through puddles in the road. It was a rare, quiet moment in the city. There were only a few people on foot, hurrying to their destinations unknown with their heads bowed and hands tucked in under their arms.

_An' next we were movin' on_

_He was with me, yeah me..._

But there was one person to break the silence. She's on a ladder working to remove the metal I in Antique Shop. She's wearing a bright yellow rain jacket, unzipped with the hoodie down. A bright pink speaker lay on the ground next to the ladder. She's singing with some grunge in her voice and swaying her head slightly. You smile at how happy she seems and also nod your head to the music.

She just finished getting the _I_ off when she pulls her phone out of her back pocket. She tucks the _I_ under her left arm and types something into the flip phone. Odd. She seems about 17 or 18. Nobody uses flip phones--especially teenagers. She puts her phone away and carefully climbs down the ladder, singing to the beginning of Queen's _Don't Stop Me Now_. Her curly brown hair bounces with every bob of her head and every skip in her step. She picks up the speaker and a different phone sitting on the window sill. Just then, she looks up and glances across the street. She pauses the music and calls out, "Hey stranger!"

You look around the street and see that it's just you. You look back to her when she calls out again.

"Yeah you: the white guy in all black." You raise an eyebrow at that. "Enjoying the rain?"

You're kind of startled at such a weird encounter. For the past forever you've been waking up at the same time, watching the same news girl on TV, doing the same menial work, procrastinating like crazy, and going home to repeat the same process.

"Not a rain fan then? Well, I can tell you that you won't be getting any sun today. And even if you were, I'm not quite sure it would make a difference." Some people might have been offended, but her smile was so innocent and light-hearted that you could only smile back. "Well, if you'd like to silently brood somewhere dry, we're open." With that, she turns and walks inside.

Maybe you wanted to tell her that do _not_ brood, maybe you wanted to know why a teenager had a flip phone and an iPhone, or maybe you just wanted to meet this girl who smiled at the rain and sang like nobody's business. Maybe, you wanted to take this as a sign that something good was coming. Every day was the same except this girl how had the gall to call out to a stranger in all black just to ask if he was enjoying the rain. Whatever the reason, you were walking toward the now "-que Shop" with a little pep in your step, coffee all but forgotten.

The bell that sounds above you gives a harsh tang. The store is big. There are tons of shelves making aisles upon aisles of anything and everything. You walk straight through one of them and discover that they are only sort of organized. The shelf on your right contains pots, pans, china cymbals, a candelabra, and an array of handheld bells. On your left are small and large burlap sacks with tags you don't bother to read, a collection of essential oils, and some flower vases.

The store smells really good even though the aroma changes from section to section. Sometimes, it's the smell of old books and pages, sometimes a floral scent, and sometimes it was just a nice, clean smell.

A man wearing a dark green vest approaches you; his name tag reads _Andrew_. He has a smile on his face that seems genuine enough and says, "Hi, I'm Andy. Is there something you're looking for in particular?"

"Um, no thanks. I mean no, I'm not looking for anything specific." Smooth. But what are you looking for? You didn't come here to shop, so why did you come in at all? You've always been drawn to energetic, exciting personalities, but you've never done something like this

Andy drew his lips into a line like he was afraid you would say that. "Okay, well, when you find something, let me know and I'll ring you up." You offer a quick thanks and he turns and walks away. You continue to look around the aisle you're in for a bit before heading toward the back of the store. You feel like you're waiting for something.

Or someone.

You've made your way to the back counter where the girl from earlier is talking with Andy. Her hair is in a ponytail now and she's sitting on the floor, packing things away into boxes. "Wow, Andy. Pushy much? ' _When_ you find something?'"

Andy rolls his eyes from the stool he's sitting on behind the register. "Shut up, Liza. It's called psychology. It encourages the customer to make a purchase without them knowing it."

Liza scoffs from her place on the floor and smirks. "Yeah, well, you and your psychology aren't going to be needed when I'm done with this place." She looks proud of herself.

Andy scowls and grunts out, "I can't believe Dad trusted you with this. I'm 25 and you're, what, 18?"

She stops packing and looks at Andy with her brows furrowed. "Listen, asshole," she starts. "I'm not going to ruin the store. Sales have been slow, and I told Greg I had some ideas that could bring in more customers. Just because you don't like me doesn't mean you should get your panties in a twist." Andy sits up straighter and opens his mouth. Liza interrupts with, "No--shh. I'm not done. This store and Greg are about the only things we can agree on. We both love them--you know it, I know it. and I would never do anything like this if I didn't have faith that it would do some good."

Andy's brows are still wrinkled, but he seems to have accepted that answer. Still, he mumbles something under his breath and Liza stands up demanding, "What was that?"

You really don't want to witness a family feud right now. Other days, maybe. From a distance. But this seems more personal than just a petty argument. This seems to have more emotions caged behind bars just ready to wreak havoc if they ever got out. So you clear your throat.

Andy quickly stands up from his stool and shoots Liza a look like _Get it together_. He turns to you again and smiles. "Hi! Find something you like?"

Shoot. From the conversation you just heard, it sounds like they really need sales. You feel like one of those douches that come in five minutes from closing time just to look. Your eyes go wide, and you're sure you look like a deer in headlights. You open your mouth and flounder for a bit before speaking. "Not yet, sorry. I'm still looking. But I will find something!" Yeah, okay, that seemed to soothe Andy's nerves a bit.

You turn away and start walking down the same aisle you just came from. Idiot--you've already been down this aisle and have no idea what half of this stuff is. But you want to help these strangers and whoever Greg is. You've found yourself standing in front of the big, mysterious burlap sacks. "Um," you call out in the general direction of the bickering pair, "Could you help me with these? I have a few questions."

There's some shuffling around and then footsteps. "Hey, stranger." It's the girl. She doesn't have a vest like Andy, but she has a name tag: Elizabeth. She smiles like you're a friend she hasn't seen in ages. "Glad you came in. How can I help you?"

You awkwardly gesture toward the bags. Wanting to respond to your earlier half-conversation and being posed with a question now make you fumble for your words. "What--what are these for? I mean, what's inside?"

She laughs and says, "Oh, I have no idea." Your face falls. "But let's check and see!" She steps closer to you and gently nudges you aside, leaning forward to pick up the tag on the first bag. Oh right. They have labels. "Well, this one says 'Sprigs of Holly.'" She moves on to a smaller one and wrinkles her nose. "Um, I can't imagine why we have this or why you'd need this but apparently this one has black cat bones. Poor babies." She sounds genuinely distraught at the thought of an animal dying.

She reads off a few more tags and straightens up. "So, any of those of use to you?" Crap. You've been staring at the strange symbol on the bag of bones. It's a red circle with a pentagram and some weird symbols inscribed in it. It was actually kind of cool. But you couldn't tell her you wanted to buy the bag of bones because you thought the stamp on the bag was cool. Nothing else caught your ear either.

"No, not really. I'm sorry." She smiled and shook her head as if to say, Stop apologizing. Hoping to get back in her good graces, you ask, "Do you have any recommendations? I've never been in a store like this."

She huffs a breath of laughter. "Yeah, I can tell. You were really intrigued by the symbol on that bones bag." She seemed to know that you were berating yourself for getting distracted because she laughed again and tagged your arm playfully. "Don't worry about it. It's just that most 'experienced' shoppers are already used to that kind of wacky stuff." She paused to think for a moment. "About recommendations: I'm not quite sure. Tell me, what did you think about today?"

The thoughts that flitted through your mind were hating work, how cool it would be to pause time and just _take a nap_ , strangling a few of your coworkers, food, classic rock. _You_. You definitely couldn't say that last one. you definitely weren't about to tell this kid, "Oh well, I hate my life and my job and was actually about to grab some coffee so I would have an excuse to _not_ work, but then I saw you, this girl who sings loudly and dances in the rain and smiles to herself and just seems to have _fun_." You definitely couldn't tell her that.

"Um. Not much actually. Just mindless work in the office that's actually right across the street from here. Boring stuff. it was really hard to stay focused. I actually originally came down to grab some coffee but, uh, I wanted to try something new." Nice save. "Ya know, something exciting."

She quirks her eyebrow at you. "New and exciting, huh? Interesting that you chose an antique shop." She gives this half-grin that makes you think that was one of the funniest things she's heard in a while. "Well, let's go find something new and exciting and maybe something to help you focus too." She turns on her heel and waves at you to follow her.

You end up walking back to the counter with all the boxes. You notice that Andy is gone and Liza seems to read your thoughts. "Andy is probably somewhere in the back. Don't worry about him, he's a butt. I'm Liza by the way. sorry I didn't say that earlier. Oppsies."

You wave it off with a muttered, "S'okay," while she takes a seat on the floor and starts digging through a box labeled "Blades" in a curly, half cursive script. This intrigues you.

"Why don't you stop asserting dominance on me and take a seat." You smile at that as she pats the ground next to her. She seems so comfortable sitting on the ground in the middle of where people walk. You hesitantly take a seat next to her. "Okie dokie, so," she starts. Your smile grows bigger at her expression. You also use _okie dokie_. "I thought you might appreciate this knife because of it's weird symbols. It's kind of occult-y--like that bag back there." She pulled out a wicked knife with a wooden handle and a jagged edge. There was a strange script on the flat of the blade. She hands you the blade. Liza was right--you like it.

You study it for a bit and tell her you'll buy it. She seems enthused but not surprised. "This is really cool. Where do you guys get all this stuff?" You hand the knife back to her and she wraps the blade with tissue paper.

"Mostly donations and whatever the owner, George--Greg--has laying around his house."

"Huh. Maybe I'll make a donation or two. My roommate has a ton of crap. He doesn't know that, but I'm kind of tired of it."

"Ah, yes. Please, volun-tell your friends' possessions. Donations are donations. It's $47.11. Think you still want that focus fix?"

"Sure."

Her face lights up at your response. She seems to have a twinkle in her eye. "Awesome! So, this is my own special blend--all-natural--I promise it's not coke." She pulls out a small, half-pint jar. It's fairly nondescript, so you're not quite sure what's inside. She unscrews the top and inside is a white rock with crumbly pieces around it. "Here, I'll show you how it works." She puts the jar and lid down on the counter and eagerly picks up the rock. She rubs it around in her palm a bit and part of it flakes off. She puts the rock back and rubs her hands together. When she brings her hands up to her mouth and looks at you, you have to stop her.

"Woah, woah, woah. What are you doing? What is that stuff?" You take a tiny step back and glance at her hands warily. Her palm and fingers are covered in a light layer of white powder.

She laughs and says, "Relax. I promise it's just crushed up plants mixed with some essential oils to form the rock. But trust me, this really works." Trust me. Oddly enough, you do. Or at least you're getting there.

You furrow your brows and take a hesitant step forward. "Okay." You close your eyes when she smiles brightly at you. You hear her blow air out and are surrounded by a wash of an aroma you can't quite place. But the feeling it leaves you with relaxes all of your muscles and makes you feel safe. Your mind wanders to your childhood home and your siblings and home cooking. You're reminded of that one summer of hard work and setting goals for yourself. You can feel that sense of satisfaction when you completed each task you set for yourself. You're relaxed and calm and yet ready to just _do_ something.

Finally, you open your eyes. Liza has put the jar away and brought out a fresh one--this one has a seal on it. she's looking at you with a proud smile and excitement in her eyes. Before you can say anything, she says, "I know right? This stuff really helps me get stuff done. I have other combinations that do all kinds of things but let's just stick with these two items for now. You probably want to get to work right about now."

You really do. You thank her as she places and jar and box with the knife in a small bag. She hands you the bag and smiles at you brightly. "I'll see you later!" Normally, you'd doubt that. But you have a feeling that she would make it happen.

As you walk out of the store you hear her start her music back up and andy yelling something at her. It's 1:57 and oddly you're okay with the fact that you still have four more hours of work. You smile to yourself as you go through the motions of getting back to your office. You finally feel that spark of life you haven't felt since college.


End file.
